Nos Astra Heights
by mrfishguy4
Summary: Shepard and his crew discover a major amount of money stored on their ship. They decide to take a trip to the beautiful Nos Astra for a vacation out, but will the money lead to more than just fun? Rated M for language.
1. Regret

Hey everybody, welcome to my first Fanfiction!

So, I'm going to go into a little bit of detail for this preface, so if you'd like to skip straight to the story, I won't hold it against you.  
I love Mass Effect. It is my favorite game series ever. The stories, the characters, the dialogue, the environments… all make for an immersive, amazing experience that mere words would have trouble painting. My favorite place among the whole universe was Illium. Nos Astra to be specific. Looking out over the buildings, seeing how many different things were happening, how beautiful it was, and generally how perfect a picture it was, really struck a chord with me. I have wanted to write about it for so long, and I swear to you, this was a labor of love. So, anyways, I do not own Mass Effect, nor do I own Bioware.

For imagination purposes, the Shepard that is starring in this Fanfiction is a default male. I suggest listening to music if you are so inclined. It helps with the story, in my opinion. This total document was sixteen pages long, at around 6,000 words or so. This is only chapter one, I will be writing constantly thinking of a chapter two! Please, if you'd like, leave a comment. Constructive criticism is always welcome, and I won't lie to you, I have to force myself to upload this out of fear of my self-esteem.

Anyways, enjoy!

Shepard stood in the hallway of the captain's cabin. He was looking at his prized Illium Skald fish and watched them swim around. They were oblivious to what was happening in the outside world. They were peaceful, safe and happy.

That last word hit Shepard hard.

Shepard had a much darker version of the word. In his mind, it is impossible to be happy alone. He wanted, no, needed someone to share happiness with. Being alone always haunted Shepard. Perhaps it was adaptation for all the horrid things he had to go through as a teen, or maybe it's just the way he is.

"Couldn't a' fixed that during my 'rebuilding', eh?" Shepard had thought sometimes. Shepard always resented himself for having that mental block. It felt like a crutch that was holding him back. It always seemed to affect him; whether he knew it or not. And usually, it was the latter.

Shepard wanted to find love. He wanted to find love, take love, have love, and die with love. He had tried so many times. The one that really, truly seemed to 'click' with Shepard is probably blowing around Virmire somewhere. Ashley was Shepard's 'one' or so he thought. He loved her with every ounce of his being. He couldn't think about that, though.

Shepard always was selective when he chose whom to care about. Because he had reasoned that they could all die in an instant. It was a dark, almost gothic viewpoint, but a reasonable one. He had never thought to date outside of the military, because he was pretty much always in the military. It didn't make sense to try to find someone outside, just to lose contact when he went back in.

He wasn't ever a hopeless romantic, per se. He wasn't hopeless in the sense that he was stupid about it. He never stopped trying to find love, but after Ashley's death, it stopped him in his tracks for a long time. He seemed to have developed a sense of deep depression after her passing, and that transpired into his love life. He knew he had to get better, but he had just not committed. It was like trying to push a cart with no wheels; slow, noisy, and it hurts the cargo in the long run. He stopped that train of thought the moment it switched to Ashley, and decided to survey his surroundings a bit more.

His eyes drifted from the beautiful Skald fish, to the jellyfish he had purchased on the citadel just days prior. "Damn," he thought. "I always forget their names!"  
He put his hand half-way up the tank and slowly dragged it down. Stopping when he remembered those 'Don't put hands on the glass' warning labels he read whenever he went to a fish store. He breathed on the glass and turned around.

Shepard looked at his medal case; buried in dust. He never bothered to pick them up anymore. For every accomplishment he had made, he gained two failures. The medals were never varied much; they had the same core principle. Fight, shoot, kill. He couldn't complain about his life though; he was living the dream of many citizens.

He glanced up a bit, and caught a view of the infinite blackness surrounding him.

Space.

"Wow," Shepard thought.

Shepard was stunned with this sudden bit of reality splashing him in the face. That he was, in fact, in space. It could go anywhere, anytime. And Shepard felt humbled to be amongst it. He leaned on the fish tank slightly, and sharply inhaled. He smiled brightly and closed his eyes. Images of his crew, his friends, and the people he called family, flashed through his mind in an instant; images of team-work, of brotherhood, of love. It gave him butterflies in his stomach, and he liked it. He wanted to be rid of this burden he carried with him every day, to be able to find love, once again.

He reopened his eyes and walked to the picture of Ashley.

"Hey, Ash." He started.

"I-I just want you to know…" He began to stutter and lose his voice.

"I miss you."

"And…And…And…I'm sorry."

"I am so, so, so sorry Ashley."

"But I can't do this anymore, Ash."

"I have to let go, for you. I know you wouldn't want to see me this way…"

"But please remember, I will always love you. Always and forever."

Shepard set the picture down and walked to his bed and sat down. His arms in the middle of his legs, he lifted his head to view the picture.

His eyes were fixated on it. It was almost impossible to even think about moving them. Why would he? It was the only way to get continuous joy out of his life. That's not entirely fair, however. He could be happy for a little while. But it seemed like his happiness was doomed to burn and sizzle out. It seemed like Ashley's innocent eyes stared into his very soul. Judging, thinking, hating. He craned his neck to look around the room, and, to his delight, he was alone, save the fish. He kicked off his boots and pulled off his shirt, along with his pants. He rubbed his eyes with his hands and yawned. He laid down on the bed and stretched his feet and cracked his toes. One by one, he felt the knuckles reacting to the action, in a sickeningly satisfying "pop", it felt as though his toes just received an Asari foot massage. He then reached out and touched the head of his bed. Drawing his finger around the metal grate, he felt the cool chill of skin touching metal. He sighed and rubbed the palms of his hand on his forehead.

Shepard decided to read a book on his Omni-tool. He pulled up some old books he bought while he was first starting out in the military. Books ranging from serious dramatic novels, to old cartoons he used to read before starting a mission. He tapped on one of the comics, a comic titled "Vince and Desi". It was a comic starring a lazy Salarian and a hyper-active Batarian. That odd mix alone was enough to spark comedy. The Salarian was disproportioned, with his head looking a little too small for his body. Shepard couldn't tell whether it was the artist's drawing style or a joke in itself. Shepard chuckled and quit the comic. The next thing he pulled up was a novel written by a human, entitled "Basking in Rain". It came out just before he shipped out for his second tour, and, having some extra credits, he decided to pick it up. He only finished about half of the book, because right around the middle, he was assigned to Nihlus' watch. But it was one of his favorite books, specifically because of one quote in the book:

"A wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away and all the leaves away, and the trees stand. I think, I too, have known autumn too long."

Shepard hung onto those words through his entire career. It became his motto, and something he always thought about when things got rough. He liked to imagine himself as the tree; a firm, strong, stubborn thing.

Although, even the most beautiful quote couldn't fix every problem.

Shepard opened the book on his Omni-tool and began searching for the book-mark he left himself all those years ago. He finally found it on page 245, and picked up right where he left off. He tapped the button right below the power button of the Omni-tool, which made the book's text light up bright enough for Shepard's sleep ridden eyes to interpret. Having lost the image he had painted for himself for the book, which came to him so vividly years ago, he struggled to regain his interest in the old book. He had made it about five pages in before he started to daydream. He imagined himself with someone, sitting in a cozy breakfast nook. It was a female, incredibly beautiful. It wasn't Ashley, nor was it anyone he had ever met. All he could comprehend was that she was stunning. She had a mixture between black and brunette hair. It was a perfect shade. Shepard found himself entranced by her hair alone. She also had a bright, gorgeous face and the eyes of an angel. Her eyes were a dark blue color; radiant in appearance. Her eyes were like an ocean; endless, beautiful and full of mystery. He was in bliss. He wanted to meet this mystery woman. He wanted to meet her and to love her till the end. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. He awoke from his dream. He cursed at himself for his lack of dream-control. He hoped to continue seeing her when he went to sleep. He continued reading his book. Realizing he wasn't enjoying the reading currently, he added the bookmark on his page, which happened to double his previous stopping point, at 490. He was a chapter or two from finishing, but, wanting to savor it for a while, decided to not finish it cheaply. He felt that if he completed it now, his tired mind wouldn't react to it the same way it would as an awake, lively mind. He used his Omni-tool to search for soothing music. He wanted to go to sleep; to see that mystery woman again. He bought some music and closed his eyes. Shortly thereafter, he was whisked away to his dream world. He met the woman once again. They enjoyed their time together, dancing, eating, skipping, kissing…

Living.

The clouds surrounding Shepard's psyche slowly started to drift and break apart through those next few days of reading. Throughout the day, he was anticipating the night. The night he could dream about the woman again, and be with her arm and arm for the nine hours he slept. To Shepard's dismay, however, throughout those days, the woman appeared less and less. She seemed like a ghost; just outside of his reach. He wanted to reach her, oh how he did. But he never could. Shepard attributed it to his depression medication. However, that was not the case. It seemed to be his mind kicking him into reality. Shepard had forgotten that that woman was not real. He was sleeping his life away, and it was starting to wear on him. Shepard promised himself that he wouldn't let his growing psychological issues affect his duty as Commander. And so far, he was keeping that promise. But Shepard knew that it was only a matter of time till he snapped. Till his strong charade was broken into little more than a bad mime's act. Shepard always had a lot of mental baggage. Being raised on Mindoir, he had to see everything he knew burned to ashes. He had to see his friends, family, and girlfriend ripped away from him. But he dealt with it, it took a while, but he dealt with it. The Alliance patrol that rescued him from the slavers was an answered prayer, and he vowed to join them, so maybe he could help kids like himself. Akuze was just another god awful thing to happen to him.

On Mindoir, Shepard hid under the house, in the rabbit hole him and his brothers dug to play hide and seek, and watched his parents drug out front and shortly thereafter, executed. Akuze forced Shepard to watch his entire squad be ripped down the middle for hours. All that death, all that gore, all that gruesomeness, had, at least Shepard had thought had, nulled him from the pain of death. Ashley's death proved him wrong, once again.

Days later, Shepard stepped into the elevator and pressed the glowing '2' on the panel. He was transported to the CIC, to answer a request made by Yeoman Kelly Chambers. Shepard looked at his watch. It read, in bright orange letters:

0300

"Three in the morning." Shepard said to himself.

"Three in the fucking morning." Shepard growled. The elevator doors opened, and Shepard stepped out.

"Ah, commander!" the Yeoman yelled.

"Kelly, I really hope this is as important as you made it in the Comm. I really, really need some sleep."

"I wouldn't want to keep _you_ awake for some odd looking debris, commander," Kelly flirted.

John had always thought Kelly was attractive in the physical sort of way. He didn't care for her personality, and on more than one occasion he had caught himself thinking of her as 'easy'. Of course, it's not like that assumption was incorrect, but John was raised to be respectful, and he planned to keep it that way.

John laughed, and lightly flirted back.

"Well, Ms. Chambers, I'd hope it'd be important enough for my…" Shepard trailed off.

"Personal attention." Shepard said in a smooth tone.

"Well, we'll see, won't we Shepard?"

"I suppose so, Miss Chambers."

Kelly regained her professional demeanor and directed Shepard to her computer.

"See, while we were hitting that bump in the Nimos system, I noticed Cerberus still hadn't drained the funds from our Ship-Bank," Kelly said.

"Oh? I like where this is going," said Shepard.

"Then you'll love this," Kelly said enthusiastically.

"At the time, I couldn't see exactly how much Cerberus had left, so I figured I might as well secure the money, in case Cerberus tried to take it back,"

"I had EDI add a thicker level of encryption to the security for the bank, and, while doing so, I managed to unlock the credits so they could be deposited into separate accounts," Kelly said, with her voice rapidly gaining volume.

"And?" Shepard said anxiously.

"I was…surprised, to say the least, at the number of credits that were in there," Kelly said.

"So, what kind of number are we talking about? Triple digits?" Shepard said unenthusiastically.

"No, commander, at least three-hundred thousand credits."

"Ho-lee shit." Shepard said, stopping for just a moment to take in the news. When he regained his composure, he yelled out orders for EDI.

"EDI, make securing those files safe from Cerberus a number one priority,"

EDI responded in her calm, robotic voice:

"Yes, Shepard."

Shepard thanked Kelly for the information and turned to leave, when Kelly asked:

"What exactly are we planning on doing with the money, commander?"

Shepard stopped, thought for a moment and responded.

"I'm thinking Nos Astra," And with that, he exited the CIC.

Shepard had called for an announcement with the remaining crew the next day.

"As you all know, we've been through a lot," Shepard started.

"And I know, technically, you aren't officially tied to us, and can desert us anytime you want," Shepard said, rather grimly.

"But, seeing as how no mutinies have started since we left, I think that's cause for reward. For the amazing efforts everyone has been putting in; especially the people who have family back home," Shepard said, happily.

"So, getting down to business," Shepard said.

"Last night, Yeoman Kelly Chambers requested my presence for a discovery she found late last night,"

Some of the crew giggled and were obviously thinking about what _else_ happened that night. But, in all honesty, Shepard hadn't had any real sexual activity apart from Miranda, and that was a huge mistake, so he wasn't too anxious to get into anything serious.

"And, the discovery was very great, to say the least."

"We have found three-hundred and twelve thousand credits in the Ship-Bank Cerberus accidentally left us."

"Now, I, as commander, have decided what to do with the money."

"We will leave ten-thousand in a fund for essentials, in case of emergency,"

"We will be sending twenty-thousand dollars back home, to those with family"

"We will be giving fifteen-thousand each to every crew member on board,"

"And we will be using a large portion of the rest to fund a vacation, and I will elaborate on that now,"

"We will be going to Nos Astra to have a taste of the high life. It will be a week long excursion, although that can be extended if need be, and every single one of you is invited!" cheers echoed in the crowded meeting halls. Illium – Nos Astra especially – is almost a fable. Nos Astra is famous for its nightlife, and the crew is going to experience it. Most of the crew who were hired was down on their luck. They joined Cerberus more as a last resort than political preference. They never, even in their wildest dreams expected to be able to go to the paradise that is Illium.

"You will each receive a hotel room at _The Hilloas_" The Hiloas, being the most expensive and posh hotel on Illium.

"We will be set on course towards Illium immediately, and we should be there by Friday, in two days."

"As for the rest of the money, it is still undecided currently, but we will brainstorming on what to use it for."

"Dismissed," Shepard said.

"And that's all, so, back to your stations!" Jack yelled. Jack's mean attitude was undeserved, as the extreme good news was flowing through the ship. It felt different everywhere Shepard walked; the air was cleaner, the people were nicer…the ship just felt more alive.

The days passed quickly, and morale was as high as ever. The crew was ecstatic, and the mood carried over into all but the most emotionally disconnected of the crew, like Jack, for example.

"This is the Normandy, requesting docking permission in bay E-11"

"Granted, Normandy; welcome to Nos Astra."

The Normandy made a smooth landing, and it took just five minutes for the safety prep to be finished. Shepard had already explained directions and the local hot spots. He expressed that it was not required to join in with anyone, but if they so choose, they will be openly invited.

Shepard approached Garrus, who was already packing away his sniper rifle.

"Putting the ol' girl away, eh Garrus?"

"Heh, I doubt it, Shepard," Garrus said, chuckling.

"If we keep following your direction, I'll crumble into dust before I put this piece of fine machinery away for good."

"Count on it, Garrus," Shepard said jokingly.

Shepard turned to go check and see how Joker was doing.

"So, Joker, how's the landing coming?"

"Good, good. We're almost finished with the magnetic alignment, and then we have to put the ship in cool-down mode so…"

"Have we got an ETA?"

"Eh, five, ten minutes tops."

"Great, good job." Shepard said.

Shepard decided to go to his cabin for the remainder of waiting. He hoped this night would help him break the chain of sleepless nights he'd had. His mind shifted to thinking about Miranda.

Like Kelly, Shepard was extremely attracted to Miranda physically, just like every male in the universe. But when it came down to her personality, her general outlook on life and love, she was little more than a stone. He had spent the night in the engineering deck, strictly because he thought she loved him. He really did love her, but it turned out she either didn't feel the same way, or did, but refused to show it. It broke his heart somewhat, but Shepard had gotten used to the feeling, so it wasn't anything new. But when Shepard discovered the emails from Miranda to other men while investigating the Shadow Broker's ship, Shepard lost it.

Shepard was enraged.

At that moment, he let every single thing he had been taught, every single little bullshit rule he ever gave himself, every little piece of love and respect towards her, his life, her life, and the universe, drop. He stomped and stormed to the Normandy, barely being able to muster a "goodbye" to Liara. He couldn't even look at another female at that moment, because he might just lash out. He boarded the Normandy and stomped and stormed his way to the Crew Deck. Heart burning with rage, he entered her office.

"Oh, Shepard. How're you?"

"Shut the fuck up right there," Shepard said, furiously.

Miranda was visibly stunned, and proceeded to give him her patented 'icy stare'.

"Oh, what is it no—"Miranda was cut short by her computer being thrown into the wall.

"What the fuck!?" Miranda screamed.

"You know what the fuck, right? You must, or you must be really fucking stupid. Do you know? Take a guess, really do!" Shepard screamed. He was burning with fury, and the blue glow of biotics much more powerful than Miranda's emanated from around his clenched fist.

He raised his fist and slammed it down on her desk, throwing her things across the room.

"I'm off saving your fucking sister, and you can't stop yourself from fucking every goddamn guy who sends you a message on that bullshit dating site!?"

"To be fair," Miranda started.

"I don't have relations with a lot of men, only those that interest me. You should feel lucky, really." Miranda's smug smile complimented that dialogue.

That little bit of sarcasm threw Shepard over the edge. He said nothing, except stared into her eyes. The disgust, the hate, the anger, all started at once. The stare he gave her would break even the strongest of people, and Miranda was no exception. "What are you thinking?" She asked with her voice cracking.

"She's a slut, it's not your fault," he thought.

Shepard continued to stare down Miranda for a harsh five minutes.

His anger was overtaken with sadness and regret. Anger was still present, enough to continue the stare, but he was on the verge of collapsing. He had to get out of the public eye before they all saw him breakdown. He turned quickly and approached her door with a rush.

"Hey, asshole," Miranda started.

"You can't leave on that!"

Shepard, on the verge of tears, let his inhabitations fly out the window.

"I loved you," Shepard started.

"I see now, that was a huge mistake."

"I hope it was worth it."

He left without another word. He walk-ran his way to his cabin and stepped in the shower. He tried to make himself not cry. He couldn't for very long. He told himself he could never, ever, ever find love like the dream woman. It just wasn't true. He stayed in the shower for a very long time, before exiting and sleeping for the rest of the day.

That was two weeks ago. That happened just a day before the news of the money. He hated Miranda with every fiber of his being. Every single part of him that she helped recreate, loathed, despised, and hated her.

Shepard pushed those thoughts out of his head for the time being. He knew nothing good could come of it, so why try? Before leaving the Normandy, Shepard had mere minutes to double check and make sure he packed everything. He began listing everything in his mind.

"Okay, clothes, check, toothbrush, check, emergency pistol, check, mouthwash, check, money, check."

Convinced he was packed and ready-to-go, Shepard walked over to his fish tank.

"See you guys in a few days" Shepard said while turning on his auto fish feeder. He walked to the door and took one last look at his cabin. He sighed and smiled as he shut the door. He walked off, and felt like he was starting to feel a change in himself. He remembered a saying his father told him: "Over half of life is participating." It was as true as quotes could go. Shepard was eager for change, eager for a difference, eager for something.

Good or bad, Shepard needed it.

Shepard entered the CIC at just the right time to see his crew preparing for their vacation.

Garrus was dressed in a thin suit, rifled with buttons. There were buttons on his sleeve, his collar, his chest, even his groin. And they were all brightly colored gold, which Shepard associated to Garrus' want to 'peacock' for the ladies.

Shepard was surprised at how Jack was dressed; she wore a t-shirt, cut short at her arms to give off that 'tom-boy' look that everyone had come to know. She wore her combat pants and shoes, though, which Shepard thought was cute.

Thane wore a finely tailored suit, which appeared to have been imported from Earth, oddly enough. It surprised Shepard, because aliens rarely wear clothes made by humans.

Grunt put on some different shoes, which everyone was thankful for. His other ones were starting to get pretty ripe.

Jacob wore a t-shirt and blue jeans; nothing too remarkable about them.

Samara had decided to stay on the ship and mediate, which, although it was never said, it seemed like the best choice for everyone. She didn't seem like the partying type, really.

It took some encouragement, but Mordin finally decided to go. Although, he was probably going to stay in the hotel and make voice memos for himself; a thing Mordin loved to do. He didn't bother to change from his lab attire, but he did wash it first, which made it less questionable.

Legion was practically glued to the drive core, so there was no bothering trying to get him out of there. It seemed like an odd idea anyway, who would react to a geth positively, especially on Illium? Hell, who would bring a robot to a party?

Kasumi had, originally, decided not to go. She wanted to reminisce with her gray-box that night. It took some coaxing from Shepard, but she decided to go when she realized how many clumsy rich people would be there, ripe for picking.

Zaeed just went for the hotel bar, and Shepard remembered him saying "A drink's a drink. I don't need any flashing lights and bad music to have good, strong, whiskey."

Tali decided to go to the club with the rest of the crew; she hadn't been out of the engineering deck for weeks, and was going stir crazy. She wore a new veil that covered the back of her head; bright, loud, beautiful is what sprang to Shepard's mind when he first saw it.

It was clear Miranda had gone all out fashion wise. A tight black dress with matching heels, stockings, all complemented her figure. Shepard wanted to stay as far away from her at all costs. "No," Shepard thought. "I'm not going to let her get in the way of my good time. I'll go where I go, and I'll treat her with respect if the situation demands!" However, Shepard made sure to tell himself he would _not _go searching for ways to 'respect' her.

Shepard began to inspect his own clothes more carefully. He was wearing a suit imported from Kahje, the Hanar homeworld, with the collar open enough to take notice of his chest but not seem desperate. It was loosely fitting, and looked great in his opinion. His pants were extremely finely crafted Thessia brand dress-pants. They looked and felt great.

Garrus walked over to Shepard and tugged on Shepard's collar.

"Shepard, are you ready to, as the humans say, party like there's no tomorrow?"

"I am Garrus, I am." Shepard said, grinning wide.

Shepard walked to the front of the party and called for the attention of everyone.

Everyone tightened their grip on their baggage, preparing for the trampling of feet that would soon occur.

"The hotel is on Jumbet heights, just past the markets. We will be meeting at the club, Razori Kingdom, at eleven o'clock, got it?" Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Joker, are we good to go?"

"Yep, opening bay doors…now."

"We'll meet in the lobby at ten-thirty, okay?!" Shepard yelled, trying to speak louder than the airlocks being removed.

"Welcome to Illium, men and women!" Shepard said.

They all stepped out into the Space Port. A bustling area; covered in so many different species it would be practically impossible to count. Most of them appeared to be here on business. Shepard overheard one Hanar say that he was on a diplomatic mission from the Citadel, to further relations between the Hanar and the Asari. Another person Shepard only barely heard, and couldn't see, was a Drell visiting his extended family.

Shepard needed something to eat, as Mess Sargent Garner's food had left him wanting. He walked to the only human restaurant that looked half decent, and ordered a sandwich. The human woman behind the counter yelled his order to the kitchen staff who confirmed their reception of the message with a "Got it!"

Shepard decided to take a seat and read his email. He opened up the Omni-tool's main interface and skimmed past its many menus. He caught notice of old reports he used to submit to Anderson, and smiled with nostalgia. He had dabbled in writing for a while; he had countless half-finished novels and poems lying around, waiting for him to finish them. He finally found his email application and tapped it lightly.

He had to scroll through countless interview requests, spam and junk mail, until he came to his saved contacts. He had received an email from Kelly Chambers a day prior and had forgotten to check it. "Now's as good a time as any," Shepard thought.

Inside the email was the code to deposit the stolen credits to Shepard's account. He made a mental note to add them when he gets to his hotel room. He responded "Thanks, Kelly," and exited the message. He scrolled all the way up to the very top, and a bright orange message glared him in the face.

"I'm sorry" the subject read. Shepard groaned when he noticed the sender:

Miranda Lawson.

"Son of a bitch," Shepard said under his breath. He opened the email, and the body was less impressive than she thought it would be, he guessed.

"Look, I know I messed up. I made a mistake, and I will live with it for the rest of my life. I didn't know whether or not we were coming back from the mission, and I just thought "Fuck it". That was a huge mistake," the first line read.

"I didn't know what I had until I lost it. Please, just give me one last chance?"

He didn't want to deal with this right now. No, no, this was all wrong. Parts of him were disgusted with her still, but the other, more hopeless-romantic side, wanted to get forgive and forget.

"No, not this time," Shepard thought. He didn't want to reply right then anyway, he was supposed to be on vacation.

His sandwich came shortly thereafter, and his mouth and stomach welcomed it gleefully. Afterwards, Shepard left a generous tip, got his jacket, and left the restaurant.

It was a short trip to the hotel, as Nos Astra's signs pointed to pretty much everything. That was the funny thing about Nos Astra, it was twice as big as New York and Los Angeles combined, but it certainly didn't seem like it from a visitor's perspective. The air was clean, the streets were relatively spotless, and the buildings were all neatly laced together. Shepard appreciated the latter, as he was not particularly comfortable around tight spaces.

Shepard appeared to have been the last to get there, as Garrus was finishing checking in. Shepard approached the counter and began to speak with the receptionist.

"Hi, I have a suite under J. Shepard?"

"Oh, Mr. Shepard," She said, generally surprised to have a galactic celebrity in front of her.

"Yes, it's all confirmed. Your room number is number 1700, one hundredth floor. Do you need help with baggage?"

"No, thank you. I'll be just fine," Shepard said with a smile.

The cashier stuttered to make a response.

"W-well if you need anything, just ask for me!"

Shepard turned his back and looked at her, smiled brightly, and said:

"I think I will…Nicollette."

Shepard walked towards the big, gold elevator doors and pressed the 'going up' button. It was in vain of course, because Garrus had already pressed it earlier. While waiting, Shepard turned his head to look at the beautiful Asari who just helped him, and gave her a wink. She was obviously nervous, and it was showing.

Garrus was still waiting for the elevators to reach the lobby, and was clearly bored. He turned and greeted Shepard.

"Hey, Johnny, how's it going?" Garrus joked.

"Good, Gear-Bear," Shepard joked back.

"What do you think of the hotel?" Shepard asked.

"Good, good," Garrus replied.

"The lobby is a little too, how should I say, 'modern', for my tastes, though." Garrus followed up.

"On that, we can agree." Shepard joked, nudging Garrus' arm with his elbow.

"So, what're your plans?" Shepard asked.

"I have a three step process; get drunk, sleep it off, repeat." They both shared a laugh.

"So you're coming with us to the club?"

"Yeah, probably. Will we be doing that every night, or are there other plans?"

"Up to you. I want to relax by the pool tomorrow, so that's where I'll be for most of the day," Shepard said.

"That actually sounds enticing," Garrus said.

Shepard sighed and folded his arms.

"Y'know when I was a kid, Garrus, I used to dream about coming here,"

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I watched the vids, saw the pictures and read the brochures. I wanted to come here more than I wanted my own birthday."

"Me too," Garrus exclaimed.

"We actually came here once, but had no money to do anything but stare out of our dingy motel," Garrus said.

"It was still fun, though. My father let us run around in the parks and play war."

"Us?" Shepard asked, quizzically.

"Yeah, me, my brother and sister,"

"I never knew you had siblings, Garrus,"

"Yeah, sis is a doctor back on Palaven, and I have no idea where my brother is. Probably KIA by now," Garrus said, coldly.

They stood in silence until the elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. Tali walked out of the elevator, clearly annoyed.

"Problem?" Shepard asked.

"The shower only goes to one setting, and I'm going to ask for it to get fixed."

"About that," Shepard started.

"Hold the door, Garrus,"

Garrus sighed and held his finger on the 'open door' sign.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, but I figure now's as good a time as any," Shepard continued.

"You and all of my advance squad are rooming in the suites."

"That includes you, Garrus!" Shepard yelled.

Garrus yelled out a sarcastic cheer out of the side of his face and continued reading his Omni-Tool.

Tali was extremely surprised, and did her best to thank Shepard.

"T—Thank you Shepard."

"No need to thank me Tali. You've certainly earned it." Shepard said sweetly.

"Oh, would you please send a mass email to the rest of the squad, informing them of their new rooms?"

"Okay," said Tali.

"You should probably go visit Grunt in person; I doubt he even knows how to turn his Omni-tool on."

"Got it," Tali said.

"Good." Shepard said while giving her a bright smile.

Garrus tapped his finger on the door open button, loud enough for Shepard to hear.

"Closing doors in five, four, three," Garrus counted down.

Shepard came in to the doors running, Tali following suit.

"If what I'm told is true, you, me, Garrus and the team are staying on the same floor, number 100."

You guys can choose your rooms, going up from 1700, okay?"

"Got it," Tali said.

Tali sent a mass email to the whole squad, telling them the news.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, save for Garrus tapping his foot and whistling a Turian war song.

They finally stopped on their floor, with Shepard walking out first.

"Meet you guys at the lobby! Remember, ten thirty sharp!"

Both Tali and Garrus yelled back:

"Yeah, sure!"

Shepard walked to his room, fumbled through his pockets for his key, and opened the door.

What was inside was simply astounding.


	2. Anger

Author's note:

I had a bit of a hard time truly explaining everything that happened in my imagination in this chapter. The pure amount of detail I tried to pour in to every word might be a little bit too much(?), and if so, I do apologize. Please leave a review so I can fix any errors, correct any story loops, or generally make your reading experience more enjoyable. As always, I recommend listening to music while reading.

(I suggest Hey Sexy Lady by Skrillex, or the infamous Harlem Shuffle.) You may or may not like these, and if not, that's totally cool. Any kind of party music goes great here. I also tried to space out my story arcs with some formatting. Hopefully that'll help clear some things up. I was kind of iffy on the ending I chose, but I'm pretty sure it'll go well with what I'm planning.

As always, I own nothing. The video game I am spinning off is property of Bioware and Electronic Arts.

ENJOY!

-The first thing Shepard noticed was the sheer mass of the room. It was the size of his cabin five times over. To the left held the bedroom and bathroom, to the right, a giant bar and lounge equipped with a poker table, pool table, and even a slot machine. The slot machine was not complementary, however. In bright yellow letters on the front it read "20 CREDS, 20 PLAYS!".

On the counter of the bar held multiple different types of drinks; each catering to the species that created it.

The Barla Five was the Batarian ale of choice. According to every Batarian Shepard had ever talked to about alcohol, Barla Five was the ultimate drink. Musky enough without sacrificing taste, but also smooth and easy to swallow. Shepard had to take their word for it, as he would be killed if he tried it. Its color was aqua blue, oddly enough. The cool, soothing color didn't seem to fit with the Batarian's usual violent, angry way of life.

The Turian beverage's label was quite plain. It simply read "Turesda" in bright white letters. The rest of the bottle was see through and, like human Vodka, the liquid was as clear as water. Garrus had told Shepard about the drink a few months prior. Garrus' description was as simple as the bottle itself:

"Minimalistic, materialistic, and simplistic is all that can really be said about this. Its beauty is its simplicity, and it does it quite well" Garrus had said in a drunken slur.

The Krogan liquor that took up most of the counter with its big, bulky bottle was the farthest thing from simplistic. It was colorful, but not in a harmonizing way. Dark red, black, yellow and blue covered each side of the square bottle. It made Shepard's eyes hurt just to look at it. He didn't even bother to look at the label.

The Asari wine bottle's build resembled a raindrop. The writing style almost seemed Japanese, save for some trademark Asari calligraphy. "Judesia Lowly" the bright black letters said; conflicting with the white liquid and clear bottle. The bottle was very small, just a little bigger than a baseball. Inside was a murky liquid that looked like something a crocodile would swim in. Shepard was excited to do a shot or two with it. Liara had shared a bottle with Shepard days after the defeat of the Shadow Broker. Shepard did not expect to enjoy it, as it reminded him of mucus. But, to his surprise, the drink was extremely good. It tasted bitter at first, but after sitting in Shepard's mouth for a brief moment, it seemed to melt into his taste buds to create a fruity, elegant, delicious taste that Shepard fell in love with. Unfortunately, this wine was extremely expensive; two hundred credits per bottle.

The human Vodka sat next to the Batarian ale. "Insecurity Zero" read the title. The colors were extremely bright and lively for a title that referred to introvert behavior. The font that made up the title was extremely odd. It seemed as though the person that designed it had had a one trip too many on some Red Sand. Shepard and that drink had a very special history, going back from Shepard's civilian days.

Just after Shepard was flown off-world of Mindoir and on to Earth by the Alliance, he fell into a deep depression. Binge drinking and smoking was a typical night for Shepard, and his body and mind were paying the price for it. He never had enough money to purchase fine wine or ale, so instead he turned to cheap bargain-bin whiskey. One day, while walking home from his kiosk job, Shepard discovered a credit chit lying on the sidewalk. He picked it up, and read the name it was registered under. Jonbo Alsua read the text in the upper right corner. The picture that confirmed his identity was one of a Volus with red stripes on his breather. He remembered him, as he was a frequent shopper at his kiosk; which sold tech upgrades for many species, namely air filterers for Volus. He was nearing the end of his days it seemed. He looked wound down in the picture, but whenever Shepard talked to him in person, he was always so happy. He quickly became one of Shepard's favorite customers, because he always treated Shepard with a smile, and in return, Shepard did the same. He was sort of sickly looking, but quite tall for a Volus. His suit looked very state-of-the-art, besides some scratches here and there. He looked at the number of credits that were in there; it had to be his life savings, if not a substantial amount of money. He caught himself thinking about pocketing the chit, and never saying a word to Jonbo.

Looking back on it, Shepard was disgusted with how he even had to wonder, and how quick he thought of it.

"If he's got _that_ many credits, he's gotta have more, right?" Shepard's deadbeat side reasoned.

"No, you aren't some petty criminal! Bring them back. He's earned them!" Shepard's angelic side argued. He decided he was not some gutter trash, especially with someone who treated him so kindly. He was not about to have fun at someone else's expense. He immediately turned on his heel and started towards Jonbo's house in the suburbs. He only remembered his address because Jonbo had signed up to be a recipient of the bi-weekly newsletter Shepard's employers ran. He walked through the alley ways, through the seedier sides of town, and finally entering the gated community of which Jonbo resided. He requested entry from the gate guard, to which the guard responded quizzically:

"Who ya' trying to see?" The Krogan guard asked smugly. He was obviously not there for his great social skills, strictly there for the muscle and intimidation factor. Shepard was not about to back down to a Krogan with an entitlement problem.

"Jonbo Alusa," Shepard responded bravely.

The guard yawned and responded lazily, "Okay, sure." He opened the gates and Shepard stepped inside. Shepard walked down the clean streets and was struck with awe. He had never seen so much wealth, never even heard of such privilege. It was both an interesting and sad moment for Shepard. He knew he could never afford such things. But he also knew that was a foolish way to think, because nothing is impossible. It was an extremely frustrating train of thought.

After a short walk, he had made it to Jonbo's house. It was a large Victorian, sat on a slight hill with a seemingly fresh coat of white paint plastering each wall. It betrayed the Victorian style's usual dark, gloomy atmosphere. He walked up and knocked on the door. Jonbo answered with a cough and a wheeze. "Um, hello. Might I ask who you are?" Jonbo asked. He spoke with light-hearted, almost downright cheerful tone. He was obviously one for optimism.

"It's John, Mr. Alusa," Shepard responded.

"Oh, John! That nice boy who bagged my goods?" Jonbo asked, remembering the very intense conversation him and Shepard had about whether or not to purchase a Kassa Fabrication cleaning system.

"That one!" Shepard responded kindly.

"What do you need, son?"

"I actually found your credit chit dropped on the sidewalk by the supermarket. Figured I should come give it back to you."

"Oh you did!? Thank you, thank you, thank you! My wife would have my head if I lost that damned thing again!" Jonbo enthusiastically said.

"I made the right choice," Shepard thought.

"Not a problem, Mr. Alusa. Have a good day!" Shepard said.

"Hold on a minute, son!" Jonbo stopped Shepard.

"For your trouble," Jonbo said, while handing Shepard a handful of credits.

"W-wow, thank you, Mr. Alusa, but I can't accept th-" Jonbo cut off Shepard.

"Please, call me Jonbo." He said with a smile.

"Go buy yourself something nice!" Jonbo said.

"O-okay, Jonbo."

That random act of kindness was very eye-opening for Shepard.. There was still good in the world, and not everyone was out to get him. With the money, Shepard went to the market and purchased a bottle of Insecurity Zero. He was on his way to see Jonbo to ask if he wanted to share. Stopping himself when he realized the drink would probably kill the Volus. He spun around and went home.

He opened the door to his dark, dirty apartment. Bottles of booze lined the walls and shelves, each holding a different story. Some Shepard kept to collect change, others he recycled for some quick cash when he was short on the month's rent. And some, well, were meaningless. Just a reminder of countless nights of self pity.

Pictures of his family and him were wrapped in fresh flowers. His mother's warm, inviting smile making the pictures whole.

His mother was very slender, but surprisingly strong. She was very kind and charitable, especially when it came to her children. She had told him that her childhood nickname was 'bones', which gave Shepard a chuckle at his mother's expense. His mother was always very quiet. She was very private with her life; not having many friends outside of home. Her and Shepard were best friends. While the line of mother/son was still there, they were able to have much more casual, normal conversations that way. Although, this did not happen without severe ridicule from the other parents of the colony, who were used to the kids being the kids, and the adults being the adults. It was one of the reasons he loved his mother. She stuck to what she believed in and never backed down. While she tried to avoid confrontation, when it presented itself, she was not afraid. Shepard always laughed when his mother told stories. She had a natural humor that everyone loved. He missed her with every ounce of his being. She visited his dreams sometimes; those nights were his favorites.

His father was the similar to his mother, but in odd ways. They both loved each other, no question about that. He also had a knack for comedy. Many nights were spent with him telling jokes and stories with a hilarious twist at the end. His father loved his family unconditionally. Like his mother, his father was never afraid of confrontation. But he was extremely unafraid, so much so that it became a problem. When you talk to a crime lord, you're supposed to show some kind of respect, right? If you ask George and Lilly Shepard, wrong. That bull-headed attitude is part of the reason they were killed instead of captured. They showed a complete lack of fear and submission while the man held the pistol to their heads. That did not bode well for them. But in a way, Shepard was glad they could be in peace, rather than aboard a slave ship.

He went to his small, square kitchen and opened a drawer with a missing knob. Inside was silverware and dining tools. It took some digging, but Shepard finally found his trusty bottle opener. He lined the tool to the cork and squeezed. With a satisfying "POP!" the cork shot across the kitchen; narrowly avoiding some dishes. He turned and opened the cupboard opposite the drawer, which held his drink cups.

"Where did I put those thing-" His train of thought was interrupted by plastic cups spilling out of the cramped space.

"Fuck!" Shepard yelled.

He picked them all up and set them on the counter; deciding to deal with it later. He grabbed the one wine glass he had and pulled himself a full cup. He swished the liquid around before sniffing it a little. It smelled like blueberries, of which Shepard loved. He pressed it to his lips before drinking the liquid. To the trained tongue of high-birth and privilege, it would be quite a horrible drink. But Shepard, having grown up in, lived in, and living in poverty, it was astounding. It was the single greatest drink to ever visit his taste buds. As odd as it may sound, it made Shepard rethink his life. He wanted to have this every night. He wanted to live life and drink fine things, not garbage can rejects. He didn't want to scratch around, waiting till payday and then drown whatever money he had on liquor. He wanted to enjoy his life instead of being content with it. His ambitions were dashed for a moment, when he realized he had no college education – no chance of becoming anything in the business world. But then he remembered the one place that will accept anybody at some position.

The Alliance.

The rest, as they say, is history. He went back to thank Jonbo a few times before he enlisted. He learned of the Volus' death right after bootcamp; natural causes, thankfully. He mourned the loss of his friend, but still kept total focus on his career. That proved to work out for Shepard greatly. But when he returned to Earth, he did not forget to lay a flower on his friend's grave. It was quite cheesy, but Shepard felt it was a good thing to leave on. Throughout the rest of his life, Shepard liked to think of Jonbo as his savior. For if he had not given him that money and not had been so kind and generous, Shepard would probably be lying in a ditch next to a red-sand addict.

Shepard made a mental note to drink to the memory of Jonbo that night. It almost brought a tear to his eye thinking about him. He cared about Jonbo immensely, and although Shepard was cold and seemingly unfazed by Jonbo's death, let this be known:

More than one night was spent in mourning and sorrow.

He walked over to the bedroom and set his luggage on the bed. He clipped open the locks and pulled out his toothbrush, his toothpaste following. He picked both up and walked to his bathroom. The marble tiles that lined the room lit up like a Christmas tree when Shepard hit the lights. He looked over and spotted the shower on the far end of the room. It doubled as a bathtub, and was, simply put, gigantic. Two seats faced each other, each having its own individual shower nozzle overhead. Directly in front of him were the sinks; three in all. Three different heads attached to removable nozzles. He set his toothbrush and toothpaste down and fiddled with the settings of the sink. He turned the lever and sampled the water pressure. A very nice setting on its default, but he wanted something with a little more intensity. He decided to take a quick shower to get ready for the night. He peeled off his clothes piece by piece, but not before exiting and putting his suit on the bed so it didn't get water damage.

The feeling of cool air touching his body shook him awake. His toes practically froze on the marble flooring. It made him all the more eager to relax in the warm water. He opened the door and switched the water on. It took just a moment to heat up to a perfect temperature. Shepard stepped in and let the water trickle down his chest. He turned around and let the water run down his neck. He tilted his head and rubbed and scratched his scalp. He repeated those three actions for thirty minutes, before exiting the shower and throwing on loose clothes. After he put on the clothes, he folded his suit and placed it neatly on the desk to the right of his bed. He had two hours left till it was time, so he to take a nap. He was exhausted from the trek to the hotel, and that shower pretty much cemented his need for sleep. He set his alarm clock, rested his head, and closed his eyes.

Shepard awoke on his back; five minutes before his alarm clock. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. Feeling the residue of 'sandman dust' on his eyelids. He rubbed harder, wanting to get it out of his eyes. He sat up, stretched, and yawned. He made his way to the bathroom to splash some water on his face; stubbing his toe in the process. He turned on the water and selected the warm nozzle. He sprayed himself on his scarred face. Luckily, the material in the floor allowed the water to be sucked into it and gotten rid of properly when straggling bits of water fell on the tile. He grabbed the towel that sat behind him and dried his head along with loose water that dripped onto his chest. Afterward, he looked in the mirror and rubbed his face again. Resiting the urge to pick at his scars, he left the room.

He picked up his suit and slipped on his pants. Followed by his shirt and vest and then his shoes. He tugged on the clothes till they were snug in all the right places. He pulled on the collar to show off his chest some more, and then, convinced he was looking up-to-par, he walked to the front door. He wrapped his hand around the knob and craned his neck to get one last look at the hotel, and to give himself a moment to remember if he forgot anything.

"Oh, the key!" Shepard remembered.

He walked to the bar where he set his key and picked it up. He almost knocked over Insecurity Zero, but saved it with a highly-impressive show of reflexes. With a 'phew', he lifted the bottle and set it back on the table. He walked back to the exit, this time with everything he'd need. He opened the door and walked out.

He walked down the bright hall to the elevator just a little ways away, nervously checking his suit for any imperfections. He checked to see if his vest was straight, his pants zipped and buttoned, and his shoes neatly tied and fitting. To his delight, all seemed to be in place. This night, he thought, was to be the best of the seven days. Friday night, drinks, dancing, talking, and maybe a little bit of swimming. He was very excited to sample what so many yearned for. What he, himself, had yearned for all those years ago. It felt as if a dream was coming true for him. It was a feeling simply indescribable. It was enough to put Shepard into a very giddy and hyped attitude.

He finally made it to the big, gold elevator doors in just ten seconds of walking. For a hotel so big, it was very spacious. Shepard loved that feature most of all.

He approached the doors and pressed the 'going down' button. He patiently tapped his foot and guessed which doors would open first. He chose correctly, as the one on the far left opened almost instantly. He rounded the corner and to his surprise (and dread,) there stood a figure he had hoped to avoid.

"I'll catch the next one," Shepard said to Miranda.

"Just get in for God's sake!" Miranda yelled.

"Ugh, fine." Shepard said, not wanting to put up with her incessant whining.

He stepped in and reached to press the floor button. Again, it was in vain, because Miranda had already pressed it. The elevators started their slow descent to the bottom floor.

"Did you get my email?" Miranda asked.

"I did, I did," Shepard responded coldly.

"So?" Miranda said anxiously.

"No." Shepard firmly stated.

"Why not exactly? Fuck, what can I do? Do you just expect some wonder queen to swoop in and be perf-" She was cut off from her tirade by Shepard's loud, powerful voice.

"You must be stupid! Nah, I just didn't want to be cheated on! That's all, really." Shepard's voice lost its tone by the second sentence. Not wanting to risk her feeling egged on.

"Well I said I was sorry, so I don't really know what you expect." Miranda said out of the side of her face.

"So that's all you have to say?" Shepard asked sarcastically.

"Hm?" Miranda said, pretending not to listen.

"Don't give me that 'huh' crap." Shepard said angrily.

"That's all you have to say? Just 'sorry' and that's it? You must be used to that working on your daddy, but the real world is a little different, sweetheart." Shepard antagonistically said.

"I really don't want to waste my time on my vacation talking to some whore who couldn't keep in in her pants. We'll talk on the Normandy. Maybe." Shepard ended the conversation.

Miranda sighed and looked at the floor. "I didn't know if we were coming back or not." She said, obviously not taking the hint.

"Odds are we weren't, hm? The chance of us surviving the base was slim to none. I wanted to..." Miranda trailed off.

"I guess have fun. I wanted to do all the things I wasn't able to do before. I wanted to enjoy the time I had, and I thought that was best spent having sex. I was wrong." She said as she stroked his cheek.

"I realize now that what I really wanted was you, Shepard. Please, give me one last chance. To fix my mistake, and maybe we could start again." She said smoothly.

Shepard jerked his head away and pulled her hand down.

"You say it like it's easy. Like what? I'm supposed to just kiss you deeply and just assume it won't happen again because you apologized? No!"

"Fact is, you lied to me."

"I don't even know why you did it, really. That whole "Didn't know we were coming back" excuse is so played out it's not even funny. None of us knew, but you didn't see Tali or even Jack going and slutting their stuff! I thought instead of fucking anything that moved, maybe I could find solace and peace in someone who cared about me. And I thought that person was you. You were not..." Shepard trailed off.

"You weren't"

"It's over now. No going back. Maybe you do, maybe you don't. Maybe you want something stable you can run back to, but I'm not gonna be that person. I'm on vacation. I don't want to deal with your drama."

"So right now, just no. Don't even try."

"Go have the fun you like to have. This time, I can't stop you."

Moments later, the elevator doors opened to the lobby. Shepard practically sprinted out of the elevator, Miranda following suit. Most of the crew decided not to go, and instead to see the sights or relax. Shepard was okay with it; as was everyone. For some of the crew, it wasn't a time for partying, it was a time for celebration, in whatever form. The people that did show up were all of his advance squad, (Save Mordin and Zaeed, who decided to stay in), and Ken and Gabby, who were walking with everyone, but decided to do something different.

The crew seemed to have all stayed in the attire they left the ship in, besides Jack, who decided she wanted to change pants. The crew all stood in a tight circle in the lobby, trying to avoid blocking the doors, but still managing to be comfortable. Shepard walked to Grunt and gave him a playful slap on the back, to which Grunt responded the same, although with a much stronger, heavy slap to Shepard's.

"Jeez, John, finally!" Garrus said.

"Don't blame me, looking this good has a price – and that price is time, my friend."

"Let's be off!" Grunt yelled.

They all left the hotel at once, clogging the revolving doors that barely contained the huge Krogan as it was. Tali appeared to linger back, not wanting to risk falling down or worse – cracking her visor. Shepard breathed heavily out as he stared into the night sky. It was an incredible night. The stars were twinkling and dancing in the sky, almost, it seemed, to dance for Shepard.

The crew began the walk to the rapid-transit location a short distance away. He decided to walk alone for a while. He lingered behind the rest of the group so he could walk at his own pace. He stuffed four fingers in his pockets and walked quickly. The street they walked down was alight, not by streetlights or lanterns, but by the brightness of the buildings they were walking next to, and the cars that flew overhead. Every second, it seemed the lights of the cars flickered and flew past at a million miles an hour. Shepard tilted his head down to look at his feet, and the gravel his shoes were stepping on.

Garrus turned around to talk to Shepard, but didn't stop walking. He cupped his hands into a tunnel, held it up to his face and yelled to Shepard:

"HEY! Where is this place, Shep!?"

Shepard snapped his head up from the gravel, and searched his memory for the location of the club.

"Uh...We're on Jumbet Heights, right?" Shepard asked.

"No, we're on Sanctimony Gasea!" Garrus corrected.

"Oh! Not too much further then. Look for a big light that says, "Figure it the fuck out Garrus"! Shepard joked, hoping that Garrus got it too. He did. The crew had a hearty laugh.

"Nah, but seriously, not too much further. Just a street up I think."

It was a short trip to the rapid-transit hub. Taking the crew just five minutes to reach it. Once they got there, they spent the time that they had to wait for a cab to play games on their Omni-tools, talk, or stare into space. Shepard chose to talk to Grunt.

"How're you feeling, Grunt?"

"Odd," Grunt said simply.

"Oh?" Shepard said curiously.

"Yes. I'm not used to this sense of..." Grunt trailed off.

"Security."

"Okeer imprinted me with the mindset that we are never, ever, ever safe. So I'm always looking over my shoulder, always double checking my gun, always fiddling with the ammo, always checking the stock, always re-checking my gun, always-" Shepard cut Grunt off as he did Miranda earlier, albeit with much less intensity.

"I get it, you're tense. Why, though? We're in paradise!" Shepard said.

"Maybe to you, Shepard." Grunt said shallowly.

"If I have a skull in my hand and a gun in the other, that is paradise. Not some sense of safety that doesn't exist." Grunt said.

"Okay Grunt, that's perfectly fine too." Shepard said.

"You know, you didn't have to come if you didn't want to," Shepard reminded.

"Hah! You think I'd miss this, Shepard!?" Grunt yelled.

"If not for my comfort, for the Asari!" Grunt yelled.

"On that, we can agree." Shepard said, effectively ending the conversation.

The cab came exactly two minutes later, but they could not all fit.

"Well, fuck." Jack said.

"So, it's got...two...four...five seats, if someone can squeeze in the middle," Garrus said.

"And we got ten people with us, so two trips," Shepard resolved.

"We're probably just gonna walk from here, Shepard. The place we want to go is not too far up," Ken stated.

"Okay guys, see ya!" Tali said as Ken and Gabby walked off.

"That means we have more seats. Three people have to wait behind till we get another cab though," Jack said.  
"Well who's willing to wait?" Shepard asked.

"Not it." Garrus said as he sat in the passenger's seat.

"Oh, and shotgun."

"I'm willing to stay," Shepard said.

"I am too," Tali said.

"Me three," Miranda chimed in.

Shepard cursed himself. "Now I have to stay or people will wonder what's up. What a bitch," he thought.

The rest of the crew got in, and in moments they were whisked away.

Shepard found a rail to lean on and patiently waited for another cab. Trying to disconnect himself from the world – and Miranda – as much as he could. Tali walked over to Shepard and mimicked his leaning.

"Thanks again for the room," Tali said.

"Don't mention it. You've been a great friend Tali – it was the least I could do," Shepard responded. Tali started to fiddle with her hands again. She was obviously nervous, about what, Shepard did not know. He was too humble to think she had a crush on him. When it reality, that was exactly what was going on. Tali furiously searched her mind for anything that could advance a conversation with Shepard.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Shepard said, sparing Tali from any more headache.

"Yes it is. You'd think with all the industry here, it would be horribly polluted," Tali said.

"Is it anything like the Flotilla?" Shepard asked.

"No! This is much cleaner."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. We have to discharge waste into space all the time, and if our eject system ends up failing, we have to burn it."

"I assume it doesn't vent into the civilian areas?"

"Depends on the severity of the fire," Tali said, unintentionally sounding cold.  
"Ah, I see." Shepard said. Thinking Tali was done talking.

"Damn it!" Tali thought.

"I lost him."

The awkwardness didn't last long – the cab arrived moments later.

Shepard chose to direct the cab, and desperately got Tali into the passenger's seat so Miranda could not. He pressed the button that brought up the auto-direct, and spoke.

"Go to Razori Kingdom," he said firmly.

"Please select speed setting."

"Fast."

And within moments, the car was up and going to their destination without another word. Shepard looked out over the city from the sky, and it finally struck him just how beautiful Illium was. Each window appeared to be lit, each street seemed to be flooded with lights, cars and people that looked to be ants. So much happening, so much life, so much happiness, so much...everything. The city was a cultural marvel, and it was not afraid to show it. Shops, malls, monuments, statues, laboratories, mansions, and car parks all peppered the earth below him. Shepard sighed. So happy he could be here to experience this, but very regretful that it would only last a couple weeks. He stopped himself and realized that was a stupid way of thinking. He should be focusing on enjoying himself right there. He looked at Miranda in the rear-view mirror. She was feeling very lowly, from what Shepard could tell. She set her elbow on the cup holder and started rubbing her eyes. She looked up and spotted Shepard looking at her. Instead of looking away, Shepard kept staring. She winked at him. He didn't wink back.

He looked forward and enjoyed the view for the rest of the ride.

It would be a short ride, not over ten minutes. The car park was full to the brim.

"Thank God we took the taxi," Shepard thought. The taxis had their own pad, and hopefully it would be relatively empty. It was, as no resident of Illium would be caught dead in a taxi. Especially if you were going to a high-class nightclub – namely Razori Kingdom. The car floated gently above the pad, like a dainty butterfly about to land on a flower petal. It was not a smooth landing, however; the nose of the car tipped a little too much forward. It landed with too much forward momentum, and had to readjust for a moment. After that brief period of aerodynamic issues, the car opened its doors. Shepard got out first, followed by Tali, and Miranda bringing up the rear.

Shepard walked around the front of the car just as Miranda was exiting. He kept walking without a second look. He walked to the bar straight in front of him that offered an amazing view of the city and the vista below them. He put his forearms on the railing and leaned in, taking deep breaths of the clean air. The area below them had no stores or clubs (Razori Kingdom took up the whole building). But what was beneath them was a great amount of foliage, fountains and benches. It was a treat for those who walked in, to apologize for their sore feet it seemed.

The club had multiple levels. Each seeming to cater to the people of that social status. Shepard and his crew were on the top level. Shepard, being a galactic celebrity, did not have to work hard to reserve a booth. It was a massive PR gain for the club; they felt lucky that Shepard had not asked for payment.

Garrus walked up to Shepard and tapped him on the shoulder. Shepard snapped his head to look at him. Garrus cocked his head back to indicate that they were heading in. Shepard nodded and gestured for him to lead the way. They walked to the group, who were lingering outside of the entrance. The entrance to the club looked like the entrance to a hotel. Silver doors and golden handles, a red canopy and tinted windows styled the glamorous entrance. Like in the hotel, the group stood in a circle. Or at least they were before Shepard showed up. They all split apart when he got there, like a pack of lions closing in on a herd of gazelle. Grunt cracked his neck, Tali rubbed her hands, which became like clockwork whenever she got nervous. The rest took big deep breaths, Shepard included. It was likely Shepard was the most excited for this, at least at that moment. Garrus stepped forward and opened the door for everyone. They all entered like a herd, Shepard last.

"Ladies first," Garrus said to Shepard while smiling. Shepard mocked a woman's voice and responded:

"Why thank you Mr. Vakarian!"

Shepard entered and was immediately stunned by the inside. Lights, music, people.

Everywhere.

Garrus shot both his arms up and shouted.

"Wooooo!" And walk-ran towards the rest of the group.

Shepard decided a different route, going through the dance floor. But before that, he looked around at everything the club, wanting to get a feel for it.

The club was ultra-modern. Sleek dance floor, walls, white lights, white bar, white everything. It was not an eye-hurting white, but it was quite bright. The DJ booth sat at the far end of the room; a Salarian behind it. The Turian bartender appeared to be a having a good time, serving drinks with a smile on his face. The people on the dance floor were extremely diverse. Human, Batarian, Salarian, Turian and the Asari, to name just a few. The asari were obviously the dominant presence on the dance floor, and they knew it. The architecture was extremely impressive; Shepard couldn't guess the number as to how much it cost to build it. It appeared to be trying to mimic, (if not improve on,) the clubs that people saw in the spy vids.

Shepard walked over to his group through the dance floor. Grunt and Jack were nowhere to be seen. It took just a quick turn of the head to see where they went; the bar. Everyone else sat at the booth they had reserved. The music that blasted throughout the club was an odd tune indeed. Heavily electronic, but not annoyingly so. No migraine-causing highs or stomach ache inducing lows. It was all extremely good; blending perfectly in Shepard's head.

"That DJ must be making fortunes!" Shepard thought.

Shepard walked over to Garrus and told him he would be on the dance floor.

"Alright amigo!" Garrus yelled, barely audibly. Shepard walked towards the middle of the room and stepped on to the white lights. The floor was huge, taking up half of the room. Crowded too, to the point of headache inducing math Shepard was inducing on his mind – trying to figure out just how many people came. He started dancing, first just moving his arms slightly, then his legs and hips. He started bobbing his head to the beat. He had got the rhythm down. He started doing all sorts of dance. His favorite, – and the ladies favorite – was hip-hop. He backed his foot up and stood on the toe. He turned and shook out his elbows, starting to really get into it. He made an 'o' with his mouth, trying to dance correctly. It was a nervous tick he had, but he never noticed. To his surprise, he was dancing extremely well. He tapped his foot on the floor once, twice, three times, and then heel, once, twice, three times. He knew he had caught the attention of some of the ladies, as the ones on the floor were obviously trying to scoot closer. Shepard looked up, still dancing like a madman, and noticed the balconies that looked down on him. On them were more people, albeit better dressed. He wondered if that place was reserved for diplomats or extremely wealthy people.  
Getting back to dancing, he put the palm of his hand on the back of his head and started swinging his elbow back and forth. He was having a lot of fun, and, being sweaty and thirsty, decided to head to the bar.

When he walked to the bar, the Turian welcomed him with a smile while doing tricks with a Ryncol bottle. The bartender effortlessly threw it up in the air, took a step forward and caught it without even having to glance.

"What'll ya' have?" the turian asked.

"Surprise me!" Shepard said.

"Feeling risky, safe or strong?" The bartender quizzed.

Shepard took a moment and responded.

"Risky." Shepard said.

"Alright tough guy. This here is imported from the slums of Earth, Philadelphia to be specific."

"Has a lower alcohol level than most of my drinks, but by far the tastiest, from what I'm told. Great to get started with, y'know what I'm saying?"

"I get you, I think." Shepard said.

"That'll be fifteen credits, sir.".

"Got it cover-" Shepard started, but was cut off by the bartender mid-sentence.

"Wait, you're Shepard? No need then, bud. Management said not to charge you a penny."

"Seriously?" Shepard asked.

"Within reason of course."

"Badass. I'd like to order some shots to my booth."

"On it. What species are with you?"

"Turian, Krogan, Human, and Quarian."

Okay, I'll bring those up."

"Up?" Shepard asked.

"Gotta go!" The bartender darted away to serve the asari drunk a few seats over.

He turned his back to the bar and leaned on it, lightly tipping the rim of the glass to his lips. It smelled reminiscent of a Bloody Mary. He opened his mouth and leaned the liquid down his throat. It was quite good; sweet as all hell though. It was by no means unpleasant, as Shepard found himself coming back to the drink every chance he could. Luckily the glass was moderately sized, enough to last for a good fifteen minutes if it was spaced out. He looked over at the booth everyone was sitting at. It looked as if Jack and Grunt were there. There was another figure he didn't recognize right away, but after some squinting it became apparent; it was Mordin.

Shepard was surprised Mordin decided to come, usually when Mordin makes up his mind, that's it. He thought it was nice to see Mordin loosen up, although, knowing him, there was probably something that could benefit his lab work somewhere around.

Shepard wanted something stronger to drink. He pounded the rest of his drink, spun around and tried to flag down the bartender.

"Hey buddy!" Shepard yelled at the bartender. Right then, he felt a three-fingered tap on his back.

"Shepard! Good to see you." Mordin said while opening his arms.

"Mordin! I thought you weren't coming!" Shepard said, doing the same.

"Old mentor told me, "Half of life is participating." Good quote, never found use for it till now."

"I see. Do you want a drink, Mordin?" Shepard asked.

"No thank you Shepard. Not young, vibrant. Need to keep organs alive for a little bit longer, sure you understand."

"It's fine Mordin. It's on me if you decide to get one though, okay?" Shepard said.

"Thank you Shepard. Probably going to go back to group, dance a little, coming?" Mordin asked.

"In a minute. I want to talk to the bartender; I ordered some shots to our booth." He said while pointing to the group's booth.

"Which one?"

"Hm?"

"Which booth," Mordin said impatiently. "You're pointing at one that's empty."

"But that is our booth..." Shepard trailed off, as he saw his team on the balcony he spotted earlier.

"We got a table up there? How?" Shepard asked.

"Unsure, Shepard. They were moving when I got here, Garrus might answer question better than I."

"Thanks, Mordin." and with that, Mordin walked off.

Shepard flagged down the bartender, who put up his finger to signal "Just a second".

Once the bartender did come, he was anxious to get Shepard's order.  
"Hey, how do you get to the balcony up there?" Shepard asked.

The turian, obviously annoyed that he was taken away from paying customers, responded nonchalantly.

"From here, go right, then left, there'll be some stairs. Just head up there."

"Thanks," Shepard said.

"For your trouble." Shepard said while slapping twenty credits on the counter and walking away. He followed the directions to the letter, and the bartender was right. He couldn't believe he didn't see it beforehand, it was practically begging for someone of less-than-required social status to try to sneak up, only to be kicked out by the bouncers the instant they showed their face. He walked up the stairs, the bouncers staring at him the whole time. Hands in his pockets, he rounded the corner and was very shocked with the atmosphere. It was much, much, much more relaxed and 'party seeking' than the area below. Which was a hard thing to accomplish, you must understand. The downside was, the only people who got in were ridiculously rich, so it ended up being uptight by default.

"Ew, she's wearing _that?_ That went out of style before the attack on the Citadel!" An Asari said, putting emphasis on every fourth word. Shepard knew he was also being uptight by judging, but it seemed he was the odd man out. It was something of a defense mechanism, albeit a poor one.

"Y'know, you'd think, being upstanding people of society, they'd be more careful with how they act in public." Shepard thought.

People of all species and age were partying like their life depended on it. You had your rich girls who were out on daddy's dime; Shepard immediately thought of Miranda.

Then you have your wanna-be musicians and actors. The kind of people who had a hit here and there, but slowly died out like an oxygen-less fire.  
You had your slimy politicians, trying to kiss enough ass so that they might get elected to whatever meaningless position would have them. To their credit, however, they seemed like the only people in the room with a functioning brain able to make decisions not influenced by drugs and/or booze.

Then you had your underage teen-pop idols who were there under-the-radar. Trying to not get spotted by the paparazzi, the police, or worse – their parents.

Then you had the rappers who thought they were hot shit because they got shot, were in a gang, are in a gang, or because they 'killed them a man'. Or just because they told the lie long enough even they started to believe it.

And last but not least, the plus-ones. The people who were friends with the famous, and therefore were entitled to the universe. Maybe they thought if they came here an agent would approach them and give them their big break.

That would never happen.

It was very easy to spot these people and category they fit in. Shepard could identify with 85% accuracy who was who, and who would overdose that night. Just look for the false sense of self-satisfaction and the look of concealed despair.

He quickly looked for his group, who were sat in what looked like a VIP booth on the other side of the room. The room was shaped like a glass dome; completely see through. There was a canopy that hung out in front of it. What was the reason? No one really knew. Most likely for ambiance or to spark a sense of envy or mystery in the crowd.

Most of the crew was there, excluding Mordin, who was still dancing in the main room. The whole crew seemed to be barely clinging on to their sobreity. Shepard sat down next to Garrus and put his hands behind his own head. The seats were extremely comfortable; they felt as though they were made out of clouds. It seemed not moments later that the shots he ordered came. Garrus, being the drunkest out of all of them, yelled in surprise.

"W-who got these shots!?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"I did, Garrus," Shepard said.

"Drink the fuck up, we got free drinks all night!" Shepard yelled.

"Woo!" Garrus cheered.

They all grabbed shots and said cheers.

"To a great night!" Shepard yelled. They all tapped their glasses together and drank the shots.

Some loud talking and some more shots later, they were ready to dance. Garrus stepped out first, obviously too drunk to care how he looked dancing. The ladies also liked that. Shepard, sharing his level of inhibition, did the same. Unbeknownst to Shepard, he was the biggest eye candy there. The women – Tali especially – were having a blast watching him. He invited Tali to dance since she was staying off on the sidelines. She started to refuse, but Shepard was having none of it.

"I can't, my Enviro-Su-" She started.

"Get over here!" Shepard smoothly said, his eyes ablaze with the fires of adrenaline.

She started like Shepard had; with gentle movements and seemingly non-existent rhythm. And, like Shepard had, she began to loosen up the more she danced. It was an odd and rather rare anomaly, seeing a quarian in the club. Hell, It was rare to see them on Illium!

They didn't care though. They were in their own world.

They stopped dancing and walked to the bar, ordered a few drinks and went back to their booth. Jack and Grunt were still dancing, as was Mordin. It was only him, Miranda, Tali, and Garrus who were taking a break. The loud dance music pounding in his ears, he sat down and started calling for more drinks. He wanted something bubbly, so he ordered some Champagne, with all the chemicals removed, so no one would get poisoned. When it got there, the rest of the crew arrived – Shepard shook up the bottle and cracked the lid. The fizz shooting everywhere, he sprayed everyone. They all yelled in unison, "Ah!". He laughed, and lifted the bottle until it was vertical to his body, and started drinking to his heart's content. The rest of the night was a blur. Images of dancing, grinding with multiple people – two of which being part of his crew – and drinking.

Where he awoke, was less than reputable.


End file.
